Not This Time
by Moonsetta
Summary: The heartbeat fell, the flickering candle was blown out by an unnamable force, the pounding against sand and leather stopped, the click, clack of typing fell silent. Then the loudest silence became sound.


This was just a tidbit of a story that I got stuck in my head. It's not really much, but this often helps with the whole, Writer's Block thing.

I don't own TMNT.

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Everything was silent in the lair beneath the streets of New York City where 5 mutated animals lived, well perhaps it would become 4 only in such a short time. This silence was both loud and quaint in the surrounding air. There were sounds, but meaningless sounds. The pounding of fists against a punching bag accomplished nothing in the moment. The flickering of a dieing candle flame did not shed enough light into the dark eyes that watched it. The clicking of keys on a keyboard were just mindless rambles on the screen that glowed through the black hue of the dark room. Perhaps the loudest silence though, was the still form on an old couch. This being didn't move nor did he make a noise, not even his breathing whispered to reality.

Even through all this, the most quaint silence was the form under a mountain of blankets, his breathing was loud, for a machine forced his lungs to breathe without his will, his heartbeat seemed to be on display for the world to observe for it was not his mind's or body's own will for it to beat. Another machine by him stretched out it's appendages over his chest, as it sent a small stream of electricity into the being, forcing the heart to beat. A monitor next to the display of the creature's beating heart showed a blue, awkward shaped blob. A temperature scale hummed a little bit louder each time a red, green, yellow or orange smudge appeared. Then the bright colors would fade, leaving the cold blue behind, the color shouting out as loudly as a screaming stone.

The heartbeat fell, the flickering candle was blown out by an unnamable force, the pounding against sand and leather stopped, the click, clack of typing fell silent. Then the loudest silence became sound, the being on the couch held his breath, sucking in a gulp of air and holding it. All colors flew towards the steel door, every shade of green, blue, yellow, orange, violet, red, indigo, black, brown, gray and even the non-color, white.

The silence crashed across the home, causing the surrounding stones to shiver and the air to fall.

_Beep, beep, beep_

Too low. It was too low.

_Beep, beep, beep_

It wasn't a moment, a second, a year or even a lifetime of silence, for no one cared about the passage of time during that moment at all.

_Beep, beep, beep, beep, beep, beep_

_Beep, beep, beep, beep, beep, beep_

_Beep, beep, beep, beep, beep, beep_

Fingers returned to typing, the taper was relit, the deep breath was forgotten, but fists refused to touch the leather again. Sometimes it's easy to imagine it's skin, at other times, you're worried it's just the wrong skin. Even sometimes, it feels right when you feel it's yours. The red bag swung carelessly back and forth on it's hook, the creaking not allowing the silence to once again consume them all. They all silently thanked the noise, those moments of silence were nothing. They seemed to be nothing then as well. Maybe they heard the footsteps, or maybe they didn't. Perhaps the sound of a metal door scrapping against the stone floor was the same as a fly buzzing through the air. Maybe they heard it and just did nothing, or just knew that there was nothing to do. The clang of the metal door meeting it's frame made everything freeze once again.

What happened then was unknown.

The room was soundproof, so if the one mutant cried, no one knew it. If he screamed and broke everything, the others wouldn't know. If he screamed the loudest he could, none of his family could hear it.

Well, perhaps one could…

The creak that filled the air was followed by more silence from inside the room. It wasn't the kind of torturous long waiting silence, but it was filled with tension and fearful questions, as if they were waiting for a flower to grow within a flame. A word came, but that seemed to be it. A single word.

"Bro?"

The sound of something tumbling and scattering over the floor made the remainder of the family turn to the room and the slightly opened steel door. When the flailing objects ceased their crashing and banging, a long drawn out beep followed. Maybe the one mutant should've run into the room and drew upon what he knew to attempt to save the slipping soul, but he didn't. Something said he could do nothing. It was all up to the one with physical pain, to pull through himself, well it had been up to him. The long drawn out beep followed, it was too late. The taper, that had remained lit for many hours, seemed to turn to face the room before it vanished at the slight wind from an intangible force. The snake like trails of smoke slithered their way up to the gray furred creature sitting before it.

The being's dark eyes were forced to settle on the floor instead of the door. The fatherly instincts made this elderly mutant rodent close his eyes as the beep continued to wrap itself around them all. His mind was settled on a strange but resolute fact.

No 15 year old child should have to go through this.

A teenager should be talking with friends and family, hanging out with them, playing a video game now and then at least, should be enjoying the time before they have to grow up.

But this child did not, because of their lives, he lay silent as melting ice, while his soul, indeed, melted away from him.

The final being widened his eyes and the relaxed posture of his hands curled into fists, shaking twice before falling flat against the cotton surface of the couch he remained on as that same cotton clogged up his throat. Then the sound of metal against the stone floor made them all glance towards the door. A footstep echoed across the room, the door opened wider and not just one being stepped out, but two. Each smiling softly and staring back at the dark shades of wonder among their family.

* * *

I wrote this way, because I'm angry! Yes, I write this way when I'm angry. I just had some popcorn sometime ago. I read something on my computer, turned and found a colony of ants in the bowl. So yeah, I'm angry.

I really have no idea what this is, but I wrote it. Therefore I will post it.

Eh, review if you want.

~Moonsetta


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